Most stories always start the same way.
You either get the slum rat who claws his way out of the mud, dripping blood and sweat until he becomes a god… or you get the golden child, heir to some great clan — fallen or thriving, doesn't matter. Either way, they're destined for greatness.
Me? I was neither.
My life was painfully dull.
I wasn't poor. My parents were comfortably upper-middle class, the kind of people who drove sensible cars, lived in a tidy house, and believed in things like "stability" and "responsibility." Respectable. Boring.
And me? I was sixteen. Which meant I was old enough to see how hollow it all was, but not old enough to do anything about it. Just stuck in between.
"Alucard!"
The screech of my teacher shattered my thoughts, and I winced as if claws had raked down my ears.
That's me — Alucard. Black hair, red eyes, pale skin that made me look like a corpse most days. People didn't know what to make of me, and honestly, half the time I didn't know what to make of myself.
My appearance was the reason for one of my greatest humiliations. When I was nine, I somehow ended up sneaking into one of Clan Valor's legendary balls. Don't ask how. I barely remember. One second I was wandering, the next I was standing under chandeliers brighter than the sun.
The maids saw me and froze. Then they smiled. Not because they thought I was special — no, worse. They thought I was Morgan Valor herself. Their precious heir.
I'll let you imagine their faces when they started dressing me up. In a gown. Their horror matched mine when they realized I wasn't Morgan but some random kid who had stumbled into the wrong place. If humiliation was a kind of scar, that night had burned itself deep into me.
Now here I was again, slumped in my seat, half-dead from a thirty-minute scolding. The teacher's voice was like nails on glass, dragging on and on, and all I could think about was how nice it would feel to drain her dry just to shut her up.
"Hey, Alucard."
I didn't need to look to know who it was. Alexander. My self-appointed "friend".
"It's about that time, isn't it? You know, when we're supposed to get infected by the Spell."
I sighed, pressing my forehead against the desk.
The Spell. That damn thing was all anyone ever talked about lately. Kids around my age either feared it or dreamed about it. Me? I wasn't against becoming Awakened. Who would be? But I couldn't stop thinking about what came after. No more normal sleep. No more dull comfort. Everything would change.
And not for me. Not really. Bastion, the great city in the sky, wasn't going to open its gates for someone like me. My luck would drop me onto some half-broken floating rock in the middle of nowhere. Forgotten. Irrelevant.
"Alucard, you're daydreaming again—LOOK OUT!"
Too late.
Pain exploded across my face as I slammed headfirst into the glass door. The crack rang through the hallway, followed by my muffled groan. Warm blood trickled down my nose, and I staggered back, clutching my face.
Alexander was already there, staring at me with his usual mix of worry and smugness. The kind of look that said, I'll never let you live this down.
He'd probably end up rich someday. Inheriting his father's company, dressing in fine suits, and sipping wine in skyscrapers while the rest of us fought monsters.
"No, Alexander," I muttered, blood dripping off my fingers as I pinched my nose. "I don't give a damn about the Spell. It's not like I'd get infected anyway."
He tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips.
I ignored him, resigned to the fact that I'd be making yet another trip to the nurse's office. My third this month.
The nurse's office smelled of antiseptic and old wood. Too clean and too musty at the same time. I sat slouched in the corner chair, pressing a wad of gauze against my bleeding nose. Honestly, the blood wasn't the annoying part. I didn't mind the feeling at all — the warm trickle running down my skin was almost… comforting. Yeah, I know. Psychopathic. People get squeamish, I get calm. Go figure.
No, what really bothered me was the sunlight. The damn rays poured through the tall windows, stabbing into my eyes and setting my skin on fire. Being pale with red eyes meant that sunlight and I were natural enemies. I had to avoid it at all costs. Otherwise, I'd come home looking like a roast pig on a spit.
I shifted lower in my chair, trying to use the shadow of the cabinet to shield my face, when I noticed her.
She was there, as always, parked by the far wall in her wheelchair, getting her daily injections.
Her body looked like it had been whittled down by some cruel sculptor. Gaunt. Fragile. Skin stretched tight over brittle bones, her spine bent into a crooked shape. Her legs rested lifelessly on the wheelchair footrests, thin and unmoving, like they hadn't known strength in years. Even her neck looked too weak to hold her head properly, dipping and straining like she carried a weight no one else could see.
I could never quite remember her name. Keffie? Afei? Something like that. Not that I had time to argue with myself — she caught me staring.
Her eyes snapped up, sharp and alive despite her frail body.
"What are you looking at?"
The accusation hit me so hard I nearly choked on the apple juice the nurse had just handed me.
"What the hell? Where did that come from?"
I coughed violently, spraying juice down my chin, while she burst out laughing. The sound was bright, almost too loud for the quiet office, and carried the edge of someone who enjoyed other people's misery just a little too much.
Who the hell was this maniacal cripple?
"Oh gods, you should've seen your face," she said between laughs. "Priceless! So, what brings you here again, pasty?"
I glared at her over the tissue pressed against my nose. "I hit my face on a door and broke it."
"Haha! The hell? How do you even do that? Wait…" She narrowed her eyes, lips curling into a smug grin. "Are you sure you're not just covering up a nosebleed because you were being a perv?"
I froze. "...What?"
She leaned forward slightly, her bony fingers gripping the wheelchair armrests, eyes gleaming like she'd solved some grand mystery. "Yeah, that's it. You're totally the type. Creeping around, nosebleed, classic."
"No?" I said flatly, deadpan.
"Uh-huh," she replied, clearly not convinced.
I sighed. There was no winning this argument. The nurse finally returned, wrapped my nose in a fresh bandage, and waved me out. I stood, ready to leave, when I glanced back at the girl.
"See ya, Beffie."
Her head jerked up. "Hey! That's not my name, damn it! You pasty bastard!"
I grinned despite myself and walked out before she could lob another insult.
The hallways were mercifully dim compared to the sunlit infirmary. My footsteps echoed against the polished floor as I made my way toward the library. Returning to class wasn't an option — not after being humiliated twice in one day. First the teacher, then the door, then the crippled comedian. No thanks.
The library, at least, was safe.
The doors creaked open to reveal shelves lined like soldiers in the gloom. Dust motes swam lazily in the slanted beams of light, but most of the room sat in cool shadow. Perfect. I slipped inside and let the door close behind me, the silence wrapping around like a blanket.
I dropped into a chair at the far table and pulled out one of my usual books. Self-insert novels. The kind where some average guy wakes up in another world and suddenly has the fate of nations resting on his shoulders. Cheesy, maybe, but addicting.
"Hmmm… I wonder which one I should read this time," I muttered, flipping through the pile.
Honestly, it didn't matter. All that mattered was wasting time until the school day ended, until I could finally go home.
My thoughts drifted, unbidden, to my little sister.
Rain.
I could already see her waiting at the gates, clutching her bag that was almost too big for her, looking at me with that expectant little smile. I'd probably end up carrying her bag for her, like always. Not because she asked, but because… well, that's what brothers do.
The thought brought a rare softness to my face. For all my complaining, Rain was the one part of my life that didn't feel dull.
I leaned back in the chair, book forgotten for a moment, and stared out of the window.
Maybe today wouldn't be so dull after all.